Eurojazzist Randomizer #6: How I Fell for a Jazz Scam
Even though I knew AI was already on the march in the music world
Quite a lot has already been written across the internet about AI music, and especially about the new and rather bizarre phenomenon of “identity theft” involving jazz musicians on streaming services. If you happened to miss it, here’s the short version: on Spotify and elsewhere, numerous albums are appearing that are supposedly released by well-known jazz musicians—both living ones and those who passed away long ago. The album covers feature very clumsy AI-generated images (one has already become legendary: “Paul Bley” failing to reach the piano keys, his hands hanging in midair in a playing position), while the music on these “albums” obviously does not belong to the musicians whose names are listed. The list of jazz musicians affected by this keeps growing.
Ted Gioia wrote a very clear overview of this phenomenon, speculating that jazz might be particularly targeted because jazz musicians’ discographies are often extensive and complicated to track, making fraud less likely to be noticed. I can’t see any other economic logic here except collecting revenue once jazz fans click to hear the “new album” by their favorite musician.
And now a personal case. I had already read about all this and informed myself before I stumbled upon a new Joey Baron album on Tidal. I was listening to one of the albums I had previously saved, but the app also showed some recommendations for new releases based on my listening habits. Of course, no matter how hard I try, I can’t keep track of everything every jazz musician releases, so I thought: “Look, Joey Baron has a new album—great!” The cover showed some kind of cartoon visual—OK. I love him as a sideman (who doesn’t), but there really aren’t that many albums under his own leadership. I used to like the album We’ll Soon Find Out from 2000, with Bill Frisell, Ron Carter, and Arthur Blythe. Excellent—I’ll listen to it later.
And then I did. What started playing was some mediocre rock music with a male vocal in the foreground. I won’t even post a screenshot or mention the supposed album title, so that you’re not tempted to click on it and put money into the pockets of scammers (even if it’s only 0.00006 cents per stream, or whatever it is).
I remember that once I “missed” in a similar way with another jazz musician, who turned out to share his name with someone in the pop world. So I tried to be fair and check whether there might be another Joey Baron. There wasn’t. Instead, Google showed… well, actually not exactly Google, but AI—Gemini’s overview inside Google’s service:
“**** is an EP released in 2026 by jazz drummer Joey Baron under the IDENTITY MUSICA LABEL. The release, featuring the title track, showcases his experimental, improvised style and is available on streaming platforms like Spotify.”
OK. At that point it already had a strong Skynet vibe for me. One artificial intelligence covering for another. There is absolutely no “experimental, improvised style” here, so it’s clearly a complete fabrication. To make matters worse, this was the only Google result. I then went to several reliable reference websites to check whether Joey Baron had actually released the EP in question, but the album wasn’t there either.
Next I tried to investigate this IDENTITY MUSICA LABEL, but couldn’t find an exact match. What I did find was a page called “Identity Music,” inviting us to “Join a growing community of independent artists and record labels who trust Identity Music to power their success.” If this is even the same entity that released the “Joey Baron album.” It’s not impossible that IDENTITY MUSICA LABEL is trying to steal the identity of an organization with a similar name, IDENTITY MUSIC, which distributes music by independent artists to streaming platforms.
I wouldn’t dare speculate further about what exactly is going on here. I’m sure musicians have already started filing lawsuits en masse, hiring lawyers, and so on. At some point a legal solution for this new situation will emerge. This is a completely different case from AI-generated music released under the alleged names of non-existent musicians (which is also weird stuff but at least has some kind of logic). Here we’re dealing with literal identity theft: you present yourself as someone else in order to gain some benefit.
After thinking about it a bit more, I came to the conclusion that fundamentally this isn’t really a problem related to the “AI phenomenon” at all—it’s much more mundane. For decades now we’ve been receiving spam emails in which a Nigerian prince or some distant relative offers us a huge inheritance if we just send them $1,000, or SMS messages telling us to collect a supposed package at the post office (and then we install malware on our phones). Or think about fake news, which predates the kind of artificial intelligence we talk about today in public discourse.
With the Nigerian prince we automatically know he isn’t real; fake news we sometimes recognize more easily, sometimes less so. Now we have a new technology in the equation, but the underlying principle seems the same.
In that sense I actually feel a certain relief, because this isn’t something civilization is incapable of dealing with. All we really need is basic digital literacy and the awareness that the world of digital music distribution is now a target for scammers as well, just like everything else. Just as a news item sometimes seems suspicious so we check it (and discover it’s fake), and then stop following the site that published it, the same will happen here. If Spotify, Tidal, and the others don’t solve the situation with AI impersonators, they will become the equivalent of fake-news sites—and that’s far too big a reputational (and financial) risk. If they are greedy enough not to react to the new situation, I believe they will be heading straight for disaster.
Old Listens
Perhaps this whole Joey Baron episode discouraged me, or maybe I just felt a bit of fatigue, but this week I didn’t listen to any new albums at all (I’m not counting James Blake, who isn’t relevant for a jazz column). I received several April and May releases from a few labels I’m in contact with: I downloaded the albums but haven’t played them yet.
It’s possible I also put pressure on myself to always have something “new—and even newer” so that I’d have material for the column. But from the perspective of a listener, of course I sometimes need to stop, pull the handbrake, and return to the albums I’ve enjoyed the most so far this year. Or to some old records. Or simply enjoy moments of silence.
So my recommendation this week is to pause from time to time and enjoy what we already have and know, no matter how informed and curious we consider ourselves as followers of current developments in music and culture in general.
Jazz Across Europe
I already mentioned that Romania is a country with several outstanding festivals. The first one I attended—and the one that holds a special place in my heart—is the Garana Jazz Festival, with its hippie atmosphere in the middle of the mountains. It takes place every July and brings together many major names from the world and European jazz scenes, sometimes with a strong focus on ECM and ACT artists, but often flirting with fusion and mainstream as well.
Here the balance between the festival’s atmosphere and its musical quality is perfect. And since Garana is relatively close to the city where I live (Pančevo is only a 3–4 hour drive), I sometimes come just for a day or two to catch a particular concert I’m interested in. If you’re coming from other parts of Europe, the nearest airport is in Timisoara and it’s well served by low-cost flights. This year the festival takes place from July 9 to 12, and you can check the program here.
At the recent concert by John Dikeman and Marina Džukljev in Belgrade, which I wrote about earlier this week, I also met the Turkish double bassist Esat Ekincioğlu, and we talked about the festival scene in Istanbul. He recommended the Show of Hands festival, which has an interesting concept: only solo or duo formations perform.
I remembered that in previous years I’d also seen some ECM artists there whom I like. This year, for example, the lineup includes pianist Colin Vallon and classical guitarist Zsófia Boros. Unfortunately, the dates—from April 15 to 18—don’t work for me at all, but I warmly recommend this year’s program, which was recently announced.